


A Cappella of Gaudete

by DarkmoonSigel



Series: The Notes Played In Between [17]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Dreaming, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Not Beta Read, Seer Will, Set in Game of Thrones, Sex, Sexual Content, Stag Hannibal, but none of the characters from it are there, don't you love my shit summeries, references to Mischa Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-10
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-18 09:19:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkmoonSigel/pseuds/DarkmoonSigel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crossover with Game of Thrones but only the setting and world for it. Will is a seer who is being sold to cover his father's debts. He meets Hannibal. Stuff happens. Ta-da. :)</p><p>Not Beta Read</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Meeting of Minds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ceris_Malfoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceris_Malfoy/gifts).



> I wrote this for and because of Ceris_Malfoy who left me some rather interesting comments. So thank you for that. Have a story.
> 
> A cappella (Italian for "in the manner of the church" or "in the manner of the chapel", also see gospel music and choir) music is specifically solo or group singing without instrumental sound, or a piece intended to be performed in this way.
> 
> Of Gaudete, I prefer the Steeleye Span version for it.
> 
> I own nothing. Not beta read.

The once great and noble house of Graham had fallen into ruin, the only two highborn left having any claim over the meager lands and title were Will Graham and his father Lord Graham. Plagued by bad alliances and crushing debts, Lord Graham’s choices were few if he wished his head to remain atop his shoulders or have a roof over his corpse. At a loss and desperate, he offered up his only first born son to the highest bidder. 

Even dwindled down to nearly nothing, the Graham's still had a long sought after gift, one that was borne solely into their bloodline. While Lord Graham did not retain any of his ancestor's legacy, his son Will had been born with it in spades, the dark haired, blue eyed man one of the last true seers of the Seven Kingdoms. 

It was a great and terrible gift that allowed Will to become any person, to know their hearts true desires and how to obtain them. He was a man no one could lie to or mislead because of this, their motives, deceptions, and plays for power seen through their own eyes, played out in his head. 

Such a gift came at a price though. Its uniqueness removed Will from the rest of humanity, the young lord more comfortable in the company of animals than his own kind. He was not touched by others because he could not bear it, and he would not dare to look into the eyes of another if he could help it or else be burdened with all their secrets and inner whisperings. As much as it damaged the young lord, it also made Will a precious and rare thing.

"A thing I have been reduced down to." Will muttered bitterly into his cup, watching as all neighboring lords and even few interested visitors from Kings Landing took their turns and made their offers with his father, bartering his life away. Hiding himself away in a darkened corner of the hall, Will tried to distract himself from his own auction by identifying the collection of house sigils in the room, any noble of merit having his house’s representation present on bright fields of embroidered silk. 

Most notably present were the Crawfords, Lady Bella and High Lord Jack conversing with his father presently. It was more than likely that he would be returned with them to their keep by the day‘s end. For as long as Will could remember, Jack had always held a longing fascination for Will’s gift. He was not the type of man to pass up an opportunity like this. Will shuddered at the thought. He respected Jack and his lovely wife well enough but Will already knew that the High Lord was planning on using him to further his own political position at court, which meant Will would be looking into the hearts and minds of people he had no desire in becoming. Jack would have no qualms about ruining Will for what he believed to be the greater good. His family was famous for such quests, represented by the concept on their own emblem, a severed arm on a field of deep blue.

The arm had once belonged to a loyal vessel of the house, a scout whose name had been Miriam Lass who had lost her life while on a secret mission for her Lord. She was captured and tortured, with only her arm sent on ahead as a message. The scout remained loyal until her demise though, allowing the Crawfords time and leverage to defend their lands and defeat their enemies. Her sacrifice was honored to this day by the Crawfords. 

Lady Bloom was here as well, though Will had yet to speak with her, her yellow rose the only flower worth noticing. It was probably for the best anyway. At the most, they are tentative friends, Alana one of the few people Will spoke to and with. She was lovely and kind, but not rich enough by far to afford him his freedom. 

Most surprisingly among the banners though was the effigy of an crimson apple in the shape of the skull, made all the most apparent on a field of black. The House of Lecter was ancient, its foundations built on the blood of the First Men. Members of the house were rarely ever seen in public though, the Lecters secretive and mysterious behind their castle‘s walls. It had been a common turn of phrase in the courts that ‘Lecter did not go to you. You went to Lecter.’, and with good reason. Though enigmatic, the Lecters were a family of healers, the caliber of which held no equal. The common folk believed that Death‘s own hand itself could be stayed by a Lecter‘s touch. That or redirected. 

Healing was not the only thing the family was famous for, their words ‘It is pork.’ seeming nonsensical to the uninformed. The story behind that short phrase was made from the Others, the legend whispered more than it was told about the fate of a little girl who was fed to her brother who was a child himself at the time. The thing about little boys though is that they grow up to be men or in this case, monsters. The men who had committed this atrocity were found and dealt with accordingly but not before they had a last meal. When they asked what kind of the meat they were eating was, the condemned were told ‘It is pork.’ as they sunk their teeth into the flesh of their families. 

It was rumored that the Lecters still follow that tradition though this is said very quietly. 

Will didn‘t know whether to feel horrified or impressed that he had caught that much attention. He almost wished he had not missed the announcement ceremony now, having like most never seen a Lecter before. The House of Lecter was a buyer though or here to gawk so it was still someone who ranked poorly with Will. 

“It is a small wonder they don’t pull back my lips back to check my teeth." Will sighed, glaring at anyone who dared to come near him. Most of the crowd did their viewing from afar. Will couldn’t say he blamed them. He certainly didn’t think he looked impressive, a pale, tired looking man dressed in frayed clothing that smelled like dried sweat, dogs, and fear.

"Talking to yourself is not a healthy pastime." said a voice too near Will for his liking. He turned in surprise to find a man standing next him, one he had never seen before. That wasn’t saying much though. If he could help it, Will paid very little attention to other humans, preferring the company of his hounds, the other thing his House was famous for breeding. 

"It is when one's self is the only source of intelligent conversation." Will grumbled into his wine. He shouldn't be drinking, especially when his father wanted him to make a good impression on their 'guests', but Will wasn't feeling too generous toward the people looking to buy him. He didn't get along well with other people at the best of time, why should he fake it now and give a false impression?

The man smiled as if amused, giving Will a chance to study him in side glances. The stranger was very well dressed, his clothing obviously expensive, made from Essos silk and Dorian leather. He was an older than Will but no less fit. Even in repose, Will got a sense of coiled strength coming from him. There was something else there as well though, a feeling of foreboding that nipped at the edge of Will's senses, both normal and other. There was definitely more to this man than he seemed, a darkness lurking about him. It bothered him, Will feeling his nerves twitch in response. 

Curious and throwing caution to the wind, Will made himself look directly at the man. It was a rare thing for the seer to do. His gift only came truly alive with eye contact and direct observation, forces beyond Will's control stripping away secrets from anyone he laid eyes upon whether he wanted them to or not. Sanguine eyes met his ocean storm own and the world fell away to a midnight wood covering in snow. Instead of a man, a stag stood before Will now, but not the simple creature of the wild wood. This stag was prey made predator, its fur accented with inky black feathers. Tall, statuesque, and with antlers like daggers that wetly dripped blood, the stag regarded Will back with dark fathomless eyes, breathing out mist that chilled Will's skin.

Will gasped as he suddenly became aware again, back in his father's hall with the man who was now holding him upright. He was too close, one hand gripping Will tightly at his waist while the other pressed itself to his forehead. "You have a fever." the man informed him, pressing Will‘s body flush to his own.

"I run hot." Will muttered, despite himself leaning into the cool touch that gauged his temperature. “Are you always so forward?” he asked, but made no attempt to free himself. He knew that this man would like to feel him struggle and Will wasn‘t about to give him the satisfaction..

“You should be grateful. I could have let you faint and crack your skull open on the floor.” the man pointed out, calm and collected, too much so for someone in Will‘s presence. The seer tended to unnerve other people with his presence alone and yet this stranger was embracing it. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time and I doubt it will be the last.” Will admitted. Being a seer took its toll upon his body, the visions that ruined his mind left his body sweating, weak, and boiling hot to the touch. 

“Is fainting common for you?” the man asked, his cooling touch moving from Will’s forehead downward to cup his jaw. It kept Will from looking away. 

“Ignorance does not become you, sir. You know what I am and what I can do. It is why you are here after all, along with everyone else.” Will snapped to be met with a narrowing of eyes that left him trembling. This was not man he wanted as his enemy, the once light grip on his side growing hard and bruising.

“There are side effects to my condition. Fainting is the very least of them.” Will muttered in survival and self defense, letting the man see his embarrassment. It seemed to work, the stranger’s irritation softening back to open curiosity, his touch gentling along with it. 

“What else is there?” the man prompted when Will remained flushed and quiet. 

“Nightmares, sleep walking, fevers, sweating. I am a delightful collection of fears. I pity the idiot who ends up owning me.” Will glared but it was weak, his misery crumbling his anger around the edges into something more akin to sorrow. 

“You act as if you are being sold into slavery.” the man shook his head. 

“That is what this is, isn’t it? My father loves his lands and his title more than my freedom. Someone has to pay for his mistakes and a son‘s duty is to obey his father and serve his house.” Will said bitterly.

“You are still a free man. You could just leave. You are educated and you do possess a very unique gift.” the man said sounding bored now, like Will should have already considered this course of action. He met that indifference with a sour look.

“Don’t patronize me. My gift is a curse that ruins my mind and my body. I have only the comfort of madness to look forward to.” Will gritted out the words because truths hurt even more when uttered aloud in front of a witness. “Anyway, where could I go? Who would have me? Who would bother to care for a raving lunatic while I recover from my visions? I am alone.”

“You are alone because you are unique.” the man said thoughtfully, looking at Will with a new intent that was strong enough to make the seer feel uncomfortable. 

“As are you.” Will spat back, his fear making him rude.

“Explain please.” the man asked. Though his tone never rose in volume, it did gain an edge. 

“I see you, though I do not understand my vision of you.” Will said softly, ignoring how the man was hurting him again, hard fingers pressing into his flesh.

“What do you see?” the stranger asked, curious but cautious as well.

“A stag with raven’s feathers surrounded by the coming winter and endless night whose horns are dipped in blood. Something deadly with teeth pretending to be prey.” Will told him honestly, hoping that the description would be bizarre enough that the man would lose interest in him entirely and let him go. Will’s hope soon fell into ruin. The man’s answering grin was a skull’s expression of too much bone and teeth to reassure. 

“I wasn’t aware you and Lord Lecter knew each other?” said Jack Crawford, reminding Will that he was still being embraced by a stranger in front of everyone assembled here in the hall. 

“In truth, not at all. I was merely offering my support for our dear Will. He was feeling unwell. I simply wished to see no harm come to him.” Hannibal explained in smooth tones, dry and cool as silk. Will shivered as he was released from his cage of flesh, though he was certain his trembling would be misinterpreted by everyone present. He found he was not allowed to go far though, Lord Lecter keeping a firm grip upon his shoulder.

“I thank you for your assistance. I would hate if Will were to injure himself before he made it back with us to the keep.” Jack grinned wide and victorious, confirming Will’s earlier prediction. The thought of leaving with the Crawfords made Will feel ill and he favored the idea of unconsciousness, fleeting reprieve that it would be. 

“So you have come to a final decision already, Lord Graham? I will remind you that you have not heard my offer as of yet and I have come a very long way to make it.” Lord Lecter ignored Jack, his full attention upon Lord Graham. The underlying severity of the personal insult against a house spoke for itself as the air became thick with tension. His father’s surprise was shared and echoed by everyone else, the lord and ladies exchanging looks, whispering to one another in the pitch of a dull roar. Will fervently wished that the ground would swallow him whole. 

“Nothing has been made official as of yet. I wasn’t aware you had any interest in obtaining a seer for your house though.” Lord Graham picked his words out carefully. The Crawfords were a long time friend and political ally but the Lectors were stronger in all areas that mattered than either of their houses combined. An affront, whether intended or not, could mean war between them all, one that Lord Graham knew his already weak house would not survive. Everyone present knew that Lord Lecter could simple take what he wanted instead paying for it if he were denied. “I must warn you though. Lord Crawford has already made me a very generous offer for my son.” 

“Ah but you will not be able to refuse my own. Unlike everyone else here, I intend so much more for someone so unique. I am willing to pay a generous dowry on top of your asking price.” Lord Lecter said with a slight smile that chilled Will down to his core. The seer realized that fainting might be a viable option for him after all. The iron grip digging into this shoulder called for some refrain on the matter though. 

The hall met the announcement with a stunned silence, one that was only broken by Lord Graham himself. “A dowry is meant for a bride.” he said slowly, not wishing to offend if there was a misunderstanding.

“Fitting, seeing how I intend to wed sweet William.”

All the rest was white noise, the hall falling away from Will as he looked past Lord Lecter to the stag that loomed over them all, dripping blood like rain onto the snow.

“Come and see.” the stag told him in winter words that sounded like icy ponds giving underfoot. Will nodded back, his future never clearer before to him than it was now. He saw the design of his vision, the truth that lay behind it all, and despaired.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is the much requested second part. Thank you for your patience. I hope it is everything you wanted and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there will be a third part.

When Will awoke, he didn’t know where exactly he was at first, parts of the seer still tethered in a state of dreaming that never truly ended for him. It was the slight rocking sensation that was the giveaway though. Landships were a rare mode of transportation, basically a couple of small rooms on wheels but it was far more comfortable than the unprotected confines of a cart or having a sore ass from riding a horse for hours on end. Will had only ever head of the King Baratheon having one but Hannibal seemed to exist to surprise others. It was also further proof of the Lord’s wealth. 

Of all the conveniences within the confines of the wheeled vessel, the bed had to be the most welcoming. The floors of it were strewed with sweet smelling reeds, the bedding was stuffed with fresh goose down, and the linens were fine cotton. It was in far better condition than even his own room back at his father’s keep had been. If Will had a dog or two or six with him, it would have been perfect. As it was though, he had a lord as company, Lord Lecter to be exact. Awake enough now to realize in whose arms he lay in, Will froze in place, considering his next actions very carefully. 

Hannibal Lecter, High Lord whose house was borne from the blood of the First Men, had chosen him of all people to marry. A seer from a fallen house of little note, who had bouts of sleeplessness and the nervous tendencies to sweat and avoid human contact. Will personally didn’t see the appeal but apparently, Lord Lecter’s mind was set upon him. What he was, was a rare thing indeed, but not enough of one for the efforts extended, at least not in Will’s opinion. The visions that seers had were uncertain things at best. Some was more turned to the future which was always subject to change, very few things actually fated. Others were more aligned with the past, giving insight and clarity where it had been lost, but little else, since the past was unchangeable. Will’s talent was hitched between the two, his pale horse ridden by death, going where it liked. 

Shifting carefully as to not disturb man holding him so close, too close, Will studied his soon-to-be while his face was safe to do so, the watchfulness of sanguine eye guarded by closed lids. “I should really think of him as Hannibal. We are to be wed soon.” Will mused, still half in and out of rare sleep as his sight lingered over high, pronounced cheeks and an elegant nose. Thin but vividly colored lips pouted in sleep, striking Will with the sudden urge to kiss them. He reasoned he would have to get used to the idea eventually. Hannibal had not forced himself on Will but he had been increasingly more tactile as their days of travel went by, the Lord taking every opportunity to let his touch linger over Will’s body. 

The rocking was soothing and the arm around him like an iron bar was more grounding than uncomfortable to him as the seer lost sight of the real world and was lulled back asleep. Will’s dreams were confused things that didn’t know what to do with him and were indecisive about whether they should remain pleasant in his company. Nightmares were far more resolute, telling Will about the truths of other people, most of whom were already dead or fated to die. 

If Will were not careful as he walked through paths of waking visions and crumbling shades of dreamscapes, he could become lost and remain inside his own head for days at a time. He would return from these journeys with a fever and chattering rants that had a bad tendency to come true for other people.

Will wondered if he should just give in to the urge and lose himself to the wilds and wilderness of his nearing madness. He could let Lecter deal with his unresponsive body and absent nature. It just might be the only sort of freedom Will could look forward to so he might as well embrace it. 

Too cold hands ran themselves over Will’s face though, the sensation calling him back despite his best efforts to remain adrift. The sharp taste of tart red wine was pressed up to his lips, fed into his mouth by Hannibal’s own, an intoxicating kiss of strange new life as fingers massaged his throat, making Will swallow. 

“You need to wake up, Will.” he heard Hannibal say, the man’s accented voice cutting through fogs and mists that tendriled through Will’s perception. They clung to him like the fingers of reluctant lovers, their grips slipping away at the stern demands of that voice.

Opening his eyes, Will’s stuttered waking was met with strange sanguine eyes, the color of a battlefield’s mud. “I want you to repeat after me. I am Will Graham. I am on the King’s Road, and I am safe.”

“But we both know, I’m not any of those things.” Will said in defiance. His name had been sold, his grip on reality was a tentative thing, and he knew deep down that no one was safe with Hannibal. Even now the stag with raven’s feathers for fur stood over them, watching as Hannibal petted Will’s curls and played with them. Will still wasn’t sure what it was or what it represented. All he was confident of was that it was Hannibal and Hannibal was it.

“My dear Will, this will go so much easier for you if you stop being difficult.” Hannibal sighed.

“It is all part of my charm, my lord.” Will managed a weak smirk, making himself sit up. He was grateful at Hannibal allowed him to, the man’s hands finally falling away from him. Will growled at himself at the flicker of disappointment that it caused. Focusing outwardly, he realized that he was covered in sweat that was chilling him, Will shivering from his damp clothing. He had been ill since Hannibal had taken him from Wolf Trap, his father’s keep. After Hannibal stunning proposal in the hall, Will had passed out, his mind unable to handle all the staring faces and his body the accompanying stress. When he had awoken tucked into bed with Hannibal, Will found that he was already on the King’s Road with all his few worldly possessions packed minus his beloved dogs. Will had basically remained there since, sweating out fear and misery. He slept fitfully when he grew exhausted from that.

To Will’s surprise, Hannibal kept him alive and well, plying the seer with food and drink. Even now, he was stripping Will of his damp clothing, the seer too weak to protest about his modesty as he was laid bare, the cotton sheets cool against his skin. Will flushed at his own nudity but made himself compliantly lay there on display. His Lord had the right to take from him everything if he so desired and any privacy he was allowed was a privileged façade at best. 

To his relief, Hannibal only seemed interested in changing his clothing, a loose robe wrapped around Will’s chilled indecisive body. The seer became mildly depressed that Hannibal was a monster with morals. It would have been easier to hate him if he were not. 

“What were you dreaming about?” Hannibal asked, running a moistened cloth over Will’s face to rid it of some of its soured salt. 

“Nothing.” Will sighed, leaning into the coolness of the material as it was pressed up against his forehead.

“You do not know this about me yet, but I do not make idle inquires. I wish to know what you saw.” Hannibal said, his tone even but firm as he took a hold of Will’s chin, making the seer look at him.

“Fragments. None of it making any real sense, my Lord.” Will told him, closing his eyes. The stag loomed over them now, its hot breathe lingering over Will’s skin, making it glisten with sweat again.. The blood coming off of its horns were staining Will’s skin red in places before flaking off like ash. It astonished Will that Hannibal could not see it, it felt so real to him. He had learned a long time ago though not to react to any of his waking visions, though he did watch the patterns bloom on his skin out of the corner of his eyes. 

“I am your Lord but I would like you to call me Hannibal.” Soft pressure placed against Will’s lids told the seer he was being kissed gently even as hard fingertips bit in under his chin’s cleft. “Tell me.”

“You’ll think me mad.” Will whispered, mouthing the words into lips placed against his own so that and his breathe were stolen at once.

“I will not ask again in a pleasant manner, William.” the warning was soft but so full of ill purpose, Will couldn’t help but shudder from it. 

“I was walking though a grove of gods wood, all white bone bark and bloody leaf. I walked hand in hand with a little girl with dark hair and eyes. She was singing a song in a language I do not understand and only hear in my dreams but I know it is lullaby about the moon and its lonely nature. Her words are just as lonely, sad, desperate even. She is scared and I fear the worst for her. As she and I walk, her flesh falls away from her body in bloody bits and bites like she is being eaten alive. She’s crying and I can’t help her. I can only hold her hand while she suffers and sings. I keep going until all I have left in my hand of her is her skull. It whispers the last few words of the song to me before it crumbled into ash.” Will said, keeping his eyes closed as he feels the words fall from his mouth in a torrent. He feels possessed now to tell Hannibal everything, even if it makes him sound insane. The dead girl’s song was still in his heart, every lyric eating it way out of his soul to leave him feeling void. 

“That was the past. You were dreaming of things from long ago.” Hannibal said with such calm certainty that it left Will reeling, the seer staring back at the lord with an incredulous look. He hadn’t expected such a reasonable answer. Most other people would be calling for a healer about now. “How do your dreams speak to you?

“With noise and clarity.” Will told Hannibal numbly in the bleak tones of the damned, waiting for the other man‘s judgment. To Will’s surprise, it never came. 

“Calm your mind and belay your fears. Those forests you spoke of are the same ones that surround my keep and that dream is the history of my house. We are almost there now if you would like to see it for yourself.” Hannibal informed him as he signaled for the land ship to come to a halt, the doors swinging open to reveal a forest that should have remained only in Will’s head.

In what he would later call self preservation or at least a form of it, Will did the only thing he could when faced with one of his dreamscapes made terribly real as he stared out into the grove of godwoods and it stared back at him with carved faces full of red eyes. 

Will left his headspace.

oOo

The seer came back to himself in a great hall made all of polished black stone, confirming the stories he had heard about Chesapeake Rock, the Lecter’s keep. The legend behind this dark hall was that it had been made by Bran the Builder from the obsidian rock that could only be found in this space of strange earth covered by gods wood trees. It was said that the blocks were carved and fitted together so perfectly that no mortar had been needed in the keep’s construction, leaving no seam behind. 

Will blinked confusion at his new company, the seer trying to stay calm as he took in the new location. Will had lost time before so it was not a new experience for him to arrive somewhere mentally late. His body tended to go through the motions of life for him perfectly well. Back home, it helped that he didn’t usually converse with other people on a regular basis and his dogs hadn’t cared either way as long as they were fed. Currently, Will found himself sitting above the salt beside Hannibal at the Lord’s end of the table, being regarded curiously by a seated group of strangers.

“Welcome back.” Hannibal greeted him with a slight smile as he pressed a cup of water into Will’s hand. “You are just in time to join us for the evening meal.” Will nodded back his understanding, thankful that Hannibal thought enough to tell him ‘when’ he was. He hated losing time, the disorientation and displacement that came with it. He was also grateful that Hannibal was trying to make this as natural seeming as possible for him, like Will was simply being inattentive for a moment instead of blanking out entirely for the better part of a day. 

“Let me introduce the vassals of my house. To our left is my warden and forester, Garret Jacob Hobbs and his daughter Abigail. Beside him are Master Chilton and Master Gideon. Both are healers, though Gideon specializes in the body while Chilton the mind. The man playing the lute is my bard Tobias and the fool beside him is Franklin who is also my wine cellar keeper. To our left is Lady Bedelia Du Maurier, my master of coin, Lady Beverly Katz, my master of laws, and Lady Fredricka Lounds, my master of whisperers. Finally at the end of the table are my counselors and keepers of the castle’s library, Master Zeller and Master Price.”

“Everyone, this Will Graham, this court’s new seer as well as my intended. You will all show him the same respect that you would show me. His words are my own and your lives are in his hands.”

Will jerkily nodded his silent greetings to everyone at the table in turn, not trusting his throat enough just yet to speak. Hhe kept his eyes down at their plates as he memorized other details that did not pertain to faces. He would always be one of those rare people who would be able to identify a person with greater certainty by the appearance of their hands rather than their faces. 

“A seer. Well, that is interesting.” the man named Chilton drawled. Will instantly didn’t care for him, the man putting too intent on the meanings behind the word ‘interesting’. He also sounded like a man who liked hearing his own voice far too much and the inane questions that it asked. Will was proved right as the man continued. “How does that work? I’ve only read about seers in dusty tomes and even then the references are few and far between.”

“Easily. I look at you and tell you how you are going to die or steal your secrets.” Will told him bluntly. He didn’t feel like playing nice, the strange new environment making him want to curl inward and hide. He risked a glance to find Chilton and Gideon smirking at him. It made something in Will twist painfully and rise up to the challenge, the hidden part of him that he tried so hard to keep hidden and tamed. The beast inside that kept him away from other people and made his avoid eyes. Not only did it keep other people safe, it kept him safe as well. It didn’t help anything either that Will could feel Hannibal watching him, waiting for an reaction. His lord seemed content to see how this played out. 

Giving in to his baser side of self, Will looked at and out at the men, meeting their eyes straight on. “You killed your wife and her family. You enjoyed it though you‘re rather confused now. You killed a part of yourself as well and not you will never know yourself again.” Will told Master Gideon with certainty that left him stunned, blank faced and blinking before he turned his attention to Master Chilton. “You will die split in half, holding your own offal. It will be slow. It will be painful. You will leave this life lying in mud and shit and be remembered for nothing.”

“Wow. I can see why you like him.” Lady Beverly said brightly with a smile, breaking the stunned silence that followed Will’s unexpectedly brutal announcement. Flushing, Will returned his gaze back down to his plate, but not before risking a look over at Hannibal.

Will wondered if he should feel worried that his lord looked so pleased with him. 

oOo  
TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wedding.  
> Not Beta Read

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last part. I hope it was worth the wait and that you enjoy it.

Will found himself walking down shadowed halls of polished black stone, their dark faces heavily covered with lush tapestries of the woven past. He was lost, wondering into places he did not recognize. In the midst of his waking, it took Will a moment to realize that he was not alone in any sense of the word. 

The feathered stag was at his back, breathing down his neck, and at his side a new addition, a pale hound pacing his slow staggering steps, the canine’s fur silvery white and its eyes a shining icy gray blue. His other side was escorted by Lord Lecter. Will wasn’t certain about any of his company’s reality though. For all he knew, he could still be dreaming. That was all he had done since coming to Chesapeake Rock.

“Hello Will.” Hannibal said, his arm crooked around Will’s own like they were taking a pleasant midday stroll through a garden instead of wandering around in the dead of night with only light of full moon, stars and tamed night eyes to guide them. “Where are we going tonight?”

“You tell me.” Will muttered. Chesapeake Rock was said to nearly rival even the likes of Harrenhal in size, the keep having nearly thirty hearths within its expansive confines. It was well over a month since his arrival but Will still couldn’t navigate the labyrinth like halls and stairwells without help, much to Master Zeller‘s amusement. Will’s exploits were known to all thanks to Lady Fredricka‘s tattling about it to everyone. Embarrassment aside, the nights held a certain dread for Will thinking that he might wander off one evening and never be heard from again. Or else they would if Will ever slept by himself. 

Though he had been allowed his own chambers for personal use during the day, Hannibal had made it clear that Will was to spend his nights in his Lord’s bed and company. It turned out to be more of a blessing than a hardship for Will though. Since his arrival to the keep, he had spent very little time actually in Hannibal’s bed. The burdens of his gift had only gotten heavier upon his arrival to Lecter‘s keep. 

“Was I sleepwalking or did I lose time again?” Will asked quietly, grateful that he could. It was a small blessing but he was allowed to be himself here. In Wolf Trap, Will had had to hide his gift or more accurately, the negative aspects that came from its use. His father and everyone else wanted something unique but not the ugly price that came with it, one that Will had to pay. They demanded gems of insight and prophecy yet spurned the fertile earth of the mind and tired flesh they came from. 

Though he missed his dogs and the familiarity of his room, Will was beginning to appreciate aspects of his new life. Hannibal treated him kindly, never with harsh judgment when Will would fall into one of his trances and ramble on for as long as he was under. If anything he seemed to encourage it, talking with Will for hours afterward about what he had seen and heard no matter nonsensical it was with no fear or trepidation in his voice. 

“Your eyes were closed but I do no think that you were sleeping. Not awake though either.” Hannibal said, sounding very alert for being up so late. Will wondered how long they had been walking. His sore feet informed him it had been a while.

“I try to avoid sleeping. Best way to keep the nightmares away.” Will sighed, despite himself leaning into Hannibal. He was allowed, one of the few that were.

“A wise plan.” Will couldn’t tell if Hannibal was being sarcastic or not with him. Probably not, he decided. Hannibal treated him with the utmost respect and deference, reprimanding and even punishing anyone who did not do the same. It was unsettling to Will after a lifetime of struggle and judgment.

Looking over at the man beside him, Will grew more certain with every weary step that Hannibal was real as the stag and hound began to fade away, the animals falling back behind them to wander off elsewhere. Part of Will felt sad to see them go but it did give him a chance to glance over intermittently at Hannibal’s profile undistracted. The Lord was as poised as always, even by dull cosmic illumination, though his features were made more severe by them. Looking made more of bone than flesh, Hannibal smiled slightly, letting Will know that his fleeting observations had not gone noticed. The seer was grateful it was dark as he felt his cheeks and tips of his ears begin to burn. 

“Are you really going to marry me?” Will asked, the question weighing on his mind. It seemed easier to ask it now than by the light of day. The promise had been made but as of yet was still waiting for completion, no date or septon called forth for it. A slight nudge at his elbow guided Will back down a side corridor that looked familiar to him for once. Stomach and throat tightening at his timing, Will realized they were almost back at Hannibal’s chambers. 

“Yes.” Hannibal said, opening the door for Will before leading him inside, his grip light on Will‘s elbow.

“I’m a man.” Will informed him, helpfully and helplessly as he was brought over to the bed. He was sat down upon it, watching as his lord filled a basin with water from pitcher, Hannibal always keeping one full in his room. One of Will’s bare feet were taken into gentle hands as a soft cloth was swiped across their soles. The other foot was given the same treatment, the pair released only when Hannibal was satisfied with their state of cleanliness. In the beginning, Will had found level of attentiveness embarrassing but now he accepted it calmly, familiar with his lord’s quirks. 

“I’ve noticed.” Hannibal sounded amused as he pressed Will back into soft bedding rich with down and velvet. After disposing of the implements, he soon followed the seer, stripping down to his bare skin without hesitation. Will watched him though he made no move to remove his own clothing. 

Will let himself be arranged, Hannibal‘s arms wrapping around him as his back was pressed up against the wall of Hannibal‘s chest. When he was pleased with their positioning, the lord released him long enough to cover them both with velvets and furs. 

“I do not care about that.” Hannibal said, nestling closer.

“What about heirs for your house?” Will pressed, trying to ignore the lips that grazed the back of his neck and failing miserably at that as he shivered in response. After all this time, Hannibal had yet to take his right from Will’s flesh, the lord seeming more pleased with soft touches that lingered long enough for Will to feel confused and uncomfortable. He had a feeling that was going to change soon though. The demonstration of his power at his first dinner here seemed to have escalated Hannibal’s affection toward him for some reason. Most people were adverse to Will’s gift at best, fearful of it at worst. Being liked for it was something entirely new for Will in his experience. All their time together was in a sense a dance of wordplay and growing tension, the two men watching each other closely as they circled one another, snake and mongoose, waiting for a falter or misstep. 

“I have no need for them.” Will heard Hannibal murmur behind the shell of his ear. The seer made himself not react to the tingling sensations the breathe play over the delicate skin caused.

“That….makes no sense. What do you plan to do? Live forever?” Will snorted, amused by the lord‘s lack of planning. It was unheard of for a man of Hannibal‘s position to not have a heir lined up to continue his house. 

“Yes.” Hannibal answered simply, pulling Will closer to him so that the seams of their bodies snugly met.

“This is a dream.” Will sighed, fighting with what weapon he had at hand even if it was as flimsy a sword as denial. He tried to ignore the warmth of the body at his back and the lack of clothing upon it. Since he became aware of his sleep walking at an early age, Will took to the habit of going to bed wearing a decent amount of clothing, usually a tunic and loose fitting pants. Hannibal had no qualms about such things though, the man holding him so close completely naked, his pale skin looking like carved moonstone in the dim silvery light. 

“No. You and I are very much real and you are awake.” Hannibal told him firmly. Will arched his back when teeth found where his neck and shoulder met, sharp teeth sinking into the flesh there. His fast breathing made odd stuttering sounds as the air was forced out through his teeth. Will shook, feeling Hannibal’s leg come between his own, a firm thigh pressing up against the underside of his genitals and stay there, applying steady pressure. 

This was finally happening and Will couldn’t bring himself to fight it. What little he did know of Lord Lecter, Will was confidant that Hannibal would stop if he asked him to. It was just a feeling but Will was sure of it though he had no reason to be. The problem was that he didn’t want Hannibal to stop. After a lifetime of imposed solitude, of people being too afraid to even touch him, it seemed like a miracle or a fantasy to have someone actually want to. All the time he had spent here was nothing but foreplay between them, soft touches and kind words that caressed Will‘s body and mind.

Rough hands were pushing and pulling off his clothing, Will realizing belated that those hands were his own tearing the material off of his body in haste. His headache was back now along with the raven stag and pale hound, the canine lying beside the bed as the stag loomed over them on the other side. 

“Then why is the stag and hound back?” Will gasped out, his breath feeling too hot for his own mouth as he pressed back against the force that was Hannibal. 

“Would you like me to send them away?” Hannibal asked, releasing his bite to nuzzle the back of Will’s head, his nose burrowing in fragrant curls to scent a unique sweetness that was only seer‘s. 

“Wha…can you do that? How?” Will asked, curious about so many things. Hannibal was acting like what he was seeing was real. Even more so, he was even offering a solution for getting rid of the visions that plagued him. This experience was beginning to become more surreal, to the point Will was sure it was his own mind’s fiction. Good things just didn’t happen to him, not like this. Despite his growing fear, a seeping wetness told Will that he was bleeding and he was awake, his shoulder and chest beginning to be striped with crimson.

 

“The same way that I can call you back from the bone cage of your own mind.” Hannibal said between laps, his tongue flat and wide against Will’s flesh as he cleaned up the mess he had made there. Will moaned as his body was cleaned by a too hot tongue, spreading a wet heat across his skin that seeped down deep to settle in Will’s belly. 

“That’s not an answer. Not a real one anyway.” Will sighed. “When will the septon arrive?” Though it seemed ridiculous to ask that now the way things were progressing so rapidly between them. Something had been sparked between them and now it could not be denied by either.

Hannibal’s hands were now longer barred over Will, their presence upon his body wandering downward to grip at narrow hips and caress the flat plains of Will’s stomach. The low thatch of dark curls there was found, fingers curled through it and tugged, making Will moan softly in response. Even lower still, his cock was explored and considered, muscular hands palming over his engorged length to squeeze it gently. Will got the impression it was an unasked question, Hannibal seeking permission even as he took from him, Will’s neck wet with his own blood and Hannibal’s saliva. 

“Never. I do not keep company with the seven.” Hannibal told him as they waited for Will to make his decision. Seeing no point in putting off the inevitable, the seer pressed his hips back with a roll, finding an answered hardness waiting for him there, one that dappled his back with sticky strands of slickness. 

“Why?” Will asked in surprise, turning his head to try and look back at Hannibal. The corner of his mouth was claimed and kissed, a dry brush of flesh against his own. Will found himself being pulled on top of Hannibal as the Lord turned to lay flat on his back, keeping Will’s own to his chest. Hannibal was only a little bit taller but Will was built leaner so it worked out in a way that Will could now feel the other man breathing beneath him as he was laid out on top of Hannibal, the pulse of his heartbeat against his own working in time with its pounding. The thick length of Hannibal’s cock pressing up against his balls felt too hot, too much for Will.

“I have no use for lazy, useless gods.” Hannibal murmured, his hands spreading Will’s legs to feel between them, the tips of them wet with oil, the smell of the lubricant sweet with spices that warmed and tingled when it met skin. Will felt embarrassment that he had missed anything, having been distracted elsewhere. 

“Careful. Hubris is a looked down upon by more than one god.” Will warned, hissing when blunt fingers found their way into him as his flesh was gently but firmly parted. 

“By the seven perhaps, not the old gods. They give power to people who truly desire, have the courage to ask for it. Would you like that power, Will? I could free you. Give you back your power.” Hannibal offered. His movements were slow and measured even as he reached a hand up to grip Will’s swollen cock. Nimble fingers were slicked with beads of precome, rubbing the slippery clear liquid over and around a too sensitive mushroom tip. Will gasped, curving his back as he was filled and pulled at in tandem, Hannibal’s soft, calm voice filling in everything and everywhere else. 

“Yes but what monster would I become? You don’ t know what your asking.” Will tried to argue, tried to explain why that would be a bad idea, but his body was betraying him as per usual, the dark creature that lived in its Will shaped cage doing what it wanted without his say. Then Hannibal touched a spot deep within him causing Will to swear to any gods listening that he would do anything that was asked of him if Hannibal would just touch him again there. 

“I have an idea.” Hannibal said, sounding amused by Will’s reaction, the seer groaning as the stimulation was withdrawn and the hand on his cock stilled, the dead weight of it searing hot.

“You said the old gods give power to those who ask for it. What did you ask for?” Will asked, because this was a test and a game for and of them both really. Will had no idea what they were ultimately playing for but if he quit now, the outcome could be fatal. 

“You already know the answer. You only need to remember it. Ask the right questions and you shall have it once again..” Hannibal murmured into his ear, the world holding still for Will as he did so in return.

“I want to be saved.” Will tried to form words for his desires. It was an honest answer, at least partially. It was enough to merit a response as he felt himself breached, the tip pressed into him and held there for a long drawn out moment of breathlessness on both their parts. 

“Only the weak need to be saved. You are not weak.” Hannibal told him, sliding in until he was hilted to the root, ignoring all of Will’s cries, the soft pleas dying on the seer’s lips as he was opened and filled all at once by brutal movements.

“I want to be like other men, my mind and my dreams my own.” Will gasped out even as his teeth rattled, his mind trying to make sense of all that was happening to him. There was pain and discomfort but pleasure as well, the kind that felt like a slow burn building itself up in his veins to an inferno with the right kind of spark found at his center. Will was his own worst enemy, accepting all the good and the bad that Hannibal forced upon and in him. 

“People are sheep. You can not keep pretending to be something that you are not.” Hannibal said firmly, thrusting up as he took hold of Will’s hips to press him down. In counterpoint, Will braced himself with heels and hands, his feet digging into the furs to find purchase while he reached behind to lock his fingers around silvery brown hair. 

Hannibal’s body was an alter made of marble turned flesh and bone. He was being speared upon it, what he was and what he was meant to become sacrificed to his lord as promises were kept. The stag and hound now stood at the end of the bed, watching them with clear eyes of wet onyx and pale star sapphire. They stood witness to their marriage.

“See?” the raven stag asked Will in a voice made from the sounds of flesh being cut from bone, hushed and wet.

“See?” the winter hound asked Will in a whisper that sounded like his own.

Hannibal was larger underneath him than before, his flesh black as ink, sinewy to the touch, and made of sharp angles. Long fingers tipped in curved claw worked over Will’s flesh, making little cuts upon him when they were seemingly careless. The seer turned his head to look at Hannibal and not, his lord’s face black as pitch now and distorted, an ebony pair of antlers curving out from his head. The lord of Chesepeake Rock and horned god of the white wood bared its fangs at Will in a familiar smile. 

“I do.” Will answered and he did, his mind completing itself. They were wed, a blossoming warmth deep inside him told Will that he was claimed, marked, and mated. His lord, his lover, his other echoing that sentiment on his neck, the new indentations of his teeth washing Will’s pale skin with bright crimson as Will was fed upon. Will came this way, locked in constraints of fang and flesh, his back arching off the sacrament that was his husband as he gasped out riddles of thrones, kings, and crows.

“I know who I am.” Will whispered to the shuddering dark as the shadows rose up to meet them in their bed. Will looked out on with new eyes of star sapphire and was not afraid of them as black feathered arms wrapped around him, pulling him under. It felt like he was fading away but Will was alright with that. He wasn’t alone anymore.

“I see you.”

oOo

“I hear a song of ice and fire, the music of coming war seeping into the land to make it freeze, bleed, and burn. The fire will come from the West on dragon’s wing and the ice will be from the North in the footstep of old gods reawakening. Many shall die but the few that survive will become legend. This is the world’s design.”

Will opened his eyes to find everyone staring at him. He looked back unafraid, meeting eyes fearlessly with his own.

“That is for the world of men and the way of kings.” Hannibal nodded, rising from his seat. He offered his hand to Will who took it without hesitation. 

“Are we not apart of that world?” Will asked, his brow furrowing. This was all still new to him. His vision had been so clear and vivid, the kingdoms of the world set as a stage and the players within them moved into position, ready to play out their parts big and small. Things were already being set into motion as a litter of dire wolf pups was discovered beside their dead mother and a silver haired girl was being sold by her mad brother for a throne he would never see.

“Only if we choose to be.” Hannibal smiled, a flash of teeth in the dark. “Come, beloved.”

The hall was all in ruin around them now, trees and other vegetation growing within its broken black walls. Only animals inhabited its crumbling splendor, the people of the place long ago gone to ground. A weasel and a boar kept each other miserable under the watchful eye of a golden owl. A fox paced around the edges, hiding here and there when it thought others were watching it. A pair of wolves, a father and daughter, lost interest in the entire proceeding and left to run through the woods. A raccoon, an otter, and a squirrel all kept company with one another, bickering at each other, loudly enough to annoy the badger. It wandered off as well with a fat gopher in tow. 

All that remained in the once great hall was the raven stag and the winter hound. Will stretched long his new spine, wagging his tail as he snapped his jaw playfully up at the Hannibal who deigned not to react when his hooves were nipped at. He strode off with antlered head held high, Will running on ahead on his new padded feet, enjoying the fleetness of them. They entered into their kingdom of ancient godswoods, blood colored eyes watching the return of the old and new lords of the bone forest. 

Winter was coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. Comments will be granted the King's mercy. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Your comments climb the Wall because winter is coming.


End file.
